Without You
by LixiPixi
Summary: Takes place between New Years and Halloween and is narrated by Mark. Um...I'm bad at summaries so I'll just say that its mostly AngelCollins MimiRoger it explores the highs and lows of both couples relationships, and the things they learn from each other
1. Chapter 1

_We open on what is now the new year. Welcome, once again, to the story of our lives. Well, it's not much of a story, more of a display of bitter fact. Poetic, huh? The stores are selling everything at 50 discount, in a desperate attempt to clear their windows of every plastic Snowman and fake snowflake. This is good news for us, who could really use a woollen blanket patterned with 'merry Christmas!' in bright red. New Years resolutions have been made. Mine is to finish my movie. Roger is going to write a song (I'd give him a couple more years). Mimi is going cold turkey...she says she will try next week anyway. Maureen and Joanne are trying to stay together. Angel has promised she will resist the temptation to splurge on various shiny things. Collins says resolutions are pointless, but quietly whispers to me that he will get another teaching job, when Angel isn't looking. A scene commences in the park. It's a freezing day, although the sky is cloudless and a beautiful blue. Collins and Angel share a bench, both unable to feel their limbs, thanks to this unusually cold start to the year. We zoom in on the happy couple._

A sunny laugh cut through the general mess of noise in the busy park. It was shortly followed by another, issued from Angel's grinning mouth. She swept a strand of stray hair away from her glossed lips, where it had stuck.

"No...keep your hand still! I can't concentrate if you keep moving it," Collins declared in a mock serious tone, reaching again for Angel's hand and pulling it into his lap. He ran a finger over the lines of his palm, frowning with concentration and trying to ignore Angel's persistent giggles.

"Honey, you have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Collins dismissed this accusation with a shake of his head and continued to trace the creases in Angel's palm, tickling lightly. He stayed silent and played particular attention to the lines in the centre of his palm.

"Now..." he began, pretending he hadn't heard Angel's protest, "This line here," He traced the skin, making Angel laugh again, "This line tells me that you're going to live for a looonngg...loooooonnnggg...loooooonnnnnngggggg time." Angel wrinkled her nose but didn't say anything. She was quite happy to believe Collins. "...and this one, and all the little ones near your fingers...they signify a tall, dark, handsome man, obviously a computer genius...who will be hailed as a modern day saint. How interesting." Angel rolled her brown eyes and pulled her hand away from Collins, laughing when she saw the smile on his face. She stood up from the bench, smoothing her skirt as she did so.

"Well I'll see you later Sweetie...I gotta go find this man!" She was soon sat back down as Collins pulled at her skirt. Like she would have ever left anyway.

To Angel, every moment with Collins seemed to be more perfect that a moment the day before, or the smile he had given her that morning. She would lay awake at night, running those moments through her head. Unable to sleep because she couldn't decide which had been better: When he had slipped her a few dollars to buy nail polish, or when he said that the stuffy assistant in the store was definitely secretly lusting after Angel, despite the petrified look on the assistant's face. Now she was sure there was a new top moment in her memory. Sharing that bench with Collins, freezing her ass off but not giving a damn, because she had just been informed that her lover was a modern day saint.

She was pulled out of her daydream by a kiss on the cheek, bringing a smile instantly to her face.

"Angel dear, as much as I would love to spend the rest of the afternoon staring dreamily at some woman walking her dog, I think we better get a moving." Collins stood up, pulling Angel with him. He rubbed his hands together until they were warmer, before placing both of them on Angel's right hand, which felt like it was made of ice. A smile crept back on her face, although it was clear that her mind was lost someplace else. "I'll take that absent smile as a sign that Mark and Roger's apartment would be the perfect place to hang out." He wished he knew what she was thinking about. If it was him, the only thing that would reduce him to that dream-like state would be thinking about the owner of the hand he was holding. Sometimes it seemed like a daydream, and any moment, a crumpled paper ball would hit him in the side of his head and he would find himself back in a dead end job. He squeezed Angel's hand to remind himself that he was actually there, holding it.

_We end the shot on a heart warming close-up of Collins holding Angel's hand. You see, living as we do isn't all sex, drugs and AIDS. We have our moments. Sometimes, I think that Angel's life is just one, big, perfect moment. Collins is starting to see things that way too Zoom out to a birds eye view of the city. Cars crawling along the roads like ants. Lights spring up as the sky darkens. By nine pm, the whole place looks like some garish holiday decoration. Cut to Mimi's apartment. Mimi and Roger sit at the window, trying to pick out some stars among the sickly orange glow of city lights._

"There...right above that window over there..." Mimi pointed, breathing on the windows so that they misted up. She didn't turn to see Roger shaking his head.

"Nah, that's a plane." He said bluntly, reaching over to write a message in the clouded window. Mimi looked at him quietly as he spelt words out slowly. She smiled silently at the way he stuck his tongue out as he wrote, and how the dull glow of a nearby lamp cast a shadow over one half of his face. He looked tired, but had promised to stay up until she left for work, which would be in about ten minutes. Mimi blinked her soft brown eyes and transferred her gaze to the window.

"Actual...reality?" She asked, reading aloud. Roger didn't confirm whether she had read correctly or not, he just stayed with his eyes fixed on the glass. He seemed to do that a lot. One minute he would be having an active conversation with Mimi, and the next he would be pensive and unresponsive, lost in his own world. She had learnt to put up with it, and would simply leave him alone to think to himself, just wishing she could get inside his head. Mimi gave a deliberate, heavy sigh and walked over to the couch to pick up her jacket. Sometimes it infuriated her to no end when Roger acted like he did. It was like he couldn't be bothered trying with her, but she did her best to help him. Mimi skipped over to the window and began to write a message below Roger's. Her writing was slow and deliberate, out of ill education.

"No day but today?" Roger read aloud as Mimi had, finally snapping out of his trance. She gave a wide grin at him speaking, and the realisation that he had been paying attention to her.

"That's right," she whispered quietly, bending down to kiss him on the cheek. Roger didn't respond at first, but then turned his head so that his lips could brush Mimi's for a second. The second of contact was enough to keep her happy for the whole night. "Don't you forget that," she told him, gesturing to her message on the window. "I gotta work, but I should be back by the time you get up tomorrow. I hope anyway." Roger gave her a short wave of his hand as she turned to leave the apartment, but kept his gaze fixed on the writing. Mimi stopped at the door to watch him for a second, before heading down the stairs and out of sight.

_Fade to black after a shot of the messages on the window, and Roger rubbing them out with the sleeve of his jacket. Typical._


	2. Chapter 2

_The sun rises over the east village earlier that usual. This is a good sign that the weather is actually going to get better, instead of stuck permanently in Arctic-mode. We open on the Loft. Angel and Collins are both passed out on the couch, they were out until late at the Life Cafe the night before. Roger strums lazily at his guitar. He came upstairs at six this morning when Mimi came home, having obviously forgotten her New Years resolution. I sit in a chair near the couch, sipping some of that disgusting instant coffee._

Mark could just about hear Roger whispering profanities under his breath. Although he tried to hide it, it was painfully obvious that Roger wasn't getting anywhere with his song, or Mimi. He had made her promise to go without drugs, and she had made him promise that he would try and forget about April, and other unfortunate things that had happened in the past. But he couldn't do it. He would see one thing that would make him think, and then he wouldn't be able to stop thinking. He realised suddenly, that he had stopped playing the guitar and had slipped into his thoughts for a few minutes, tuning out the sound of Mark talking to him.

"So what do you think?" Mark asked, putting his coffee cup down on the window sill. Roger frowned in confusion and set his guitar to one side.

"What?" he asked ignorantly, combing his hair with his fingers. Mark rolled his eyes, realising that his friend had not been paying attention to a single word he had said.

"I _said_, Maureen invited me to go to the Life Cafe with her and Joanne tonight. I _said_, I don't think my sanity could withstand a night of those two fighting. I _asked_, would you like to come with me? I _added_, maybe Collins and Angel would like to come too."

Roger returned the eye roll at Mark's sarcasm, but gave a short laugh afterwards.

"I'll _reply_, I'm sure it'll be fun. I'll _add_, I'm sure Angel and Collins would love to come. I'll _remark_, those two don't look like they're quite ready to join the world of the living yet." They both laughed at Roger's reply and cast a glance to the couch. Both Angel and Collins were fast asleep, although both fully dressed, still wearing clothes from the night before. Mark raised his eyebrows and wondered whether to wake them or not, they may be annoyed that they had slept the day through. Roger made the decision for him. He crumpled up a week old newspaper and threw it square at the side of Collin's head. There was a groan from the torn couch. Roger grinned and pinned the blame on Mark with an accusing point.

"Shit man..." said a gruff voice, visibly belonging to Collins as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, wincing at the strong light from the windows. "You know, you could just say 'Man, wake up' Instead of throwing stuff."

"Mark's idea," Roger lied simply, folding his arms. Mark scowled and elbowed him. Collins raised an eyebrow in question, but then just shook his head. It had been a fun night several hours earlier, and Collins was now suffering the consequences of excessive alcohol consumption. A killer hangover. He pulled his black skull cap low over his head, almost covering his eyes. Sunlight was not his friend. Angel however, stayed fast asleep. Mark handed Collins a cup of hot coffee, in the hope of waking him up a little more.

"She gonna get up?" He asked, gesturing to the couch. Collins nudged Angel gently with his knee. She showed no sign of gaining consciousness, just gave a groan and rolled over, making the most of having the whole of the couch. "I guess not," Mark answered his own question, putting on his scarf and picking up his camera. "Well I gotta go to the store and stuff, so I'll catch you guys later. Roger, fill Collins in on the Life Cafe plan." Roger nodded to Mark as he rushed out of the apartment.

"Life Cafe plan?" Collins questioned, setting his coffee down on the kitchen counter and searching for the latest newspaper. Roger handed him it and began to clear away the older ones, and other general junk.

"Yeah...Maureen asked Mark to meet her and Joanne there. Understandably, Mark doesn't really want to suffer through an evening with both of them, so he's inviting the rest of us along." Collins nodded in understanding.

"I'm sure me and Ang will come."

Almost on cue, there was the sound of high heels being kicked off feet and hitting the hard wood floor. Collins turned around in time to see a flash of color and ripped tights zip across the room and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind it.

"Morning dear!" Collins called out, in a false cheery voice, knowing that Angel would probably be feeling as happy as someone who had just been hit by a car. She was not a morning person,

"Morning dear yourself!" Came an irritated reply. Collins and Roger grinned at each other knowingly.

"Where's Mimi?" Collins asked curiously, unaware that it was a delicate subject. Roger looked at the floor and sighed. He had just happened to be awake when Mimi had got back from work. He had been woken up by Angel and Collins getting in a few hours before and hadn't been able to get back to sleep. Then Mimi had stumbled in with a smile on her face. He knew immediately that she was high, and what were the chances of Roger catching her at six am? The smile had slipped from her face the moment she spotted Roger, confirming his suspicions. He could have shouted at her, but it wasn't worth waking everyone else up, so he had just picked his guitar up and gone upstairs. Roger didn't really feel like reliving it while explaining it to Collins, so he just shrugged,

"Sleeping, I guess," he muttered touchily. Collins took the hint and didn't ask anymore questions, just lit a cigarette and took a long drag. A nice excuse for the awkward silence that appeared between the two men. "What did you and Angel get up to yesterday then?" Roger asked, initiated conversation again, due to the guilt he felt for being so touchy with Collins.

"Hmmm...the usual," said Collins, giving a happy grin. The usual was perfect for him. If that was normal, then what would a good day be like? "We hung around the park until it got dark...changed...got some food...drank in the Life Cafe until the early hours." Roger raised his eyebrows at Collins.

"How do you afford all of that? Neither of you work..."

"God only knows," Collins grinned and shrugged, stubbing his cigarette out on the kitchen counter. "It's all Ang. I might just mention that I could really go for a hotdog, and she'll just whip out a few dollars from nowhere. The eighth wonder of the world, that girl." Roger gave a laugh. It was alright for some. Whenever he had money, it seemed to disappear before he had time to think. At least he was the kind of person to be able to manage without it.

"Is Angel eating her breakfast in the bathroom or something?" Roger asked. The door had been locked for a worrying long amount of time. Collins shrugged again, but walked over to the bathroom door and knocked on it. When there was no reply, he gave a louder knock and pressed his ear to the door. There was the sound of a very masculine coughing fit coming from the bathroom.

"You okay in there baby?" Collins asked, his ear still pressed to the door.

"I'm fine.." Angel slipped in a comment between coughs. Collins, unconvinced, moved away from the door to wait for the coughing to end. Roger gave him a questioning look.

"I think she's sick," Collins said quietly, in the hope that he wouldn't be heard.

"I am not!" Came a muffled and reluctant reply. "I am..." more coughing, "just," cough, "fine!" Collins shook his head and rolled his eyes, walking away from the bathroom door so he could talk to Roger without being overhead.

"She's probably just sick after drinking too much last night, or maybe she has a cold. It was freezing outside, and we were out all day." Roger was just about to nod in agreement when the bathroom door clicked open and Angel strode out, putting a lot of effort into look perfectly co-ordinated and steady. Both Collins and Roger turned immediately to check her well being. Angel raised a plucked eyebrow at them both.

"I didn't drink too much last night," She told them, showing she had heard Collins's remarks. "And I don't have a cold. I am fine. Ain't a girl allowed to cough?" Collins didn't answer her rhetorical question, but just sat there and looked her over. She looked well enough. Although there were dark circles under her eyes, but that was understandable, they had only had a couple of hours sleep. He reached over to hold her hand and tried to hide his alarm at how it felt. Her hand was cold and clamy, wet with sweat. Collins had to keep his grasp firm, to control the way that Angel's hand was shaking. He glanced up at her face for an explanation, but she made eye contact for only a second before fixing her gaze on the floor. Angel spoke as solidly as she could manage.

"I'm fine."


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry...this is short. REAL short. But I should update tomorrow:)**

_It's late afternoon. The sky is beginning to turn from blue to yellow, very slowly. Collins and Roger share a bag of chips in the Loft. Roger is in an 'open' mood and the two friends are happily discussing Angel, who is asleep on the couch again, Mimi and April. Collins is making the most of Roger's honest mood and asking him about a variety of things. I'm still out. Freezing my ass off, standing in line for a hotdog. It's about an hour before everyone should be meeting in the Life Cafe._

Collins resisted the temptation to take the last chip from the bag, and left it for Roger. Instead he brushed the crumbs off his fingers and on to his lap. Off his lap and on to the floor.

"...so sometimes I wonder, what is the point of helping her?" Once he had finished speaking, Roger helped himself to that last chip. Munching away while waiting for an answer from Collins. It felt good to rattle off his worries to someone. He rarely told Mark everything, because he would always have to face him the day after saying it. It was better with Collins. He was generally more of a helping person, and would often be away for days at a time. Long enough for Roger to think that he had forgotten everything he had been told.

"Ah, but there is a point," stated Collins, with promising potential. "You love her...don't look at me like that Roger, you know you do..." He shook his head and continued, "and your love ain't gonna get very far if you just give up on it." Roger gave a sarcastic laugh and interrupted Collins rudely.

"What do you know? Have you ever had to try to love Angel?" He rushed on before Collins could argue with him. "No. You two are just perfect together. It just happened with you two. It's not like that with Mimi. Everyday I'm trying...sometimes I manage it and sometimes I don't..." Roger cast his eyes to the floor, not wanting Collins to see how much Mimi did actually mean to him, "...sometimes I just give up." Collins felt a rush of sympathy for his friend, but he was almost happy that he knew what the real problem was. Now it would be all that much easier to solve. But he could feel his own problems weighing heavily on the back of his mind, and he had to share before it was too much for him.

"It's not so perfect for me and Ang."

"What?" Roger pulled his gaze up to look square at Collins, almost instinctively checking if he was joking. He had always seen those two as the perfect couple. You could just tell how much they loved each other from studying a single glance. They could be talking to two different people about two different things, but still they would be holding hands, or stealing glances at each other's smiles, or even just thinking about each other. Collins could be talking about the headlines of that weeks newspaper, but if you looked in his eyes, there was a constant stream of 'Angel-Angel-Angel'. It was a struggle to believe that there was a weak link in the chain.

"We have our problems," he went to continue, but felt as if his explanation was stuck in his throat. Perhaps it would be better for him not to tell Roger. His friend was already troubled, and surely he didn't need Collin's worries on his back too. When Collins finished his sentence there, Roger reached across and shook his arm.

"Tell me," he prompted. Collins shook his head, but what he wanted to say came out anyway.

"It's just...sometimes..." He took off his hat and ran the black material through his fingers, concentrating on that meant that he wasn't constantly thinking about what he was saying, which was a good thing in this situation. "She's such an optimist sometimes..." He felt immediately stupid for choosing that at the major flaw that was bothering him, and laughed. "I mean, that's not such a bad thing! But sometimes she's so set on seeing things as perfect, and wonderful, and she tried to be happy all the time. She forgets about the bad things, the serious things, and sometimes they can matter." He was getting puzzled looks from Roger, so hurried on to explain himself. "It's like, she's in her own world and she doesn't see what's happening. She doesn't see what's happening to her...to Mimi...to you and me." Roger caught on slowly and nodded. He half wished he could put it right out of his mind like Angel did.

"I know what you mean," Roger said quietly. "Mimi is kinda like that." Collins almost sighed out of relief. He had felt a worry that Roger would be completely shocked by his problem. Which he realised now, was never likely.

"She is?" Collins asked encouragingly, wanting to draw the attention away from himself for a moment.

"Yeah, I wouldn't say she was an optimist...but she doesn't seem to know what she's doing to herself, and she hates it when I tell her. Like she's trying to block it out. Sometimes I think I'm the only one that sees it..." He looked Collins in the eyes and grinned. He returned the smile. Both of were glad to be rid of their problems. "But now I know I'm not."

_I think Roger thinks he is completely alone sometimes. He thinks I am completely oblivious to what is going on, but I'm not. I see what is happening to everyone too._

_Sometimes it's all I see._


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, good update. This chapter was a lot of fun...except right at the end. That bit made me sad :(**

_The Bohemians prepare for a night at the Life Cafe. Collins is given the difficult task of waking Angel up, turns out she isn't a waking-up person at all. Morning or evening. Roger sets off down the stairs and bumps into Mimi on her way to work. There is a minute of anxious glances before Roger lets out a big sigh and a muttered 'sorry'. Roger agrees to wait up for her when he gets home. There is still tension and stuff, but Roger knows what he has to do. Cut to the exterior of the Life Cafe. I wait for everyone, freezing my ass off for the 15th time that day. It's a clear night, some stars are visible over the glow of the street lights. A crescent moon hangs over the top of the Life Cafe, this is pointed out by an approaching Angel and Collins._

"Oooh, isn't it pretty?" Angel gushed, tilted her head on one side so that the fur of her jacket brushed her cheek. She was wearing her Santa coat even though it was January, mainly to keep warm, but also because it looked nice. It also attracted a fair bit of attention, which she didn't seem too bothered about. Collins smiled and looked up at the moon too, agreeing with Angel. When the two had reached the Cafe, they met an obviously cold Mark. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched, making the most of his warm scarf.

"Mark...you look a little cold," Collins pointed out.

"No shit," Mark said plainly. "It's like zero degrees...where's Roger?"

"He'll be here in a minute. He stayed back a second to talk to Mimi." Collins turned to look at Angel, with a pleading, jokey look. "Fancy lending your coat Ang? Mark looks like he's about to drop dead." The three shared a bizarre mental image of Mark wearing Angel's outfit, and starting laugh loudly together.

"As hot as I'm sure Mark would look...I think being cold would do him less damage." Angel joked, twirling a strand of her black wig round her finger. Mark grinned and turned to check if Roger was coming down the street. They had a choice of freezing and waiting for Roger, or going inside the Cafe and suffering through those few extra minutes of Joanne and Maureen making a scene. Or Maureen making a scene, and Joanne doing everything she could to prevent it. Which in turn, would make it worse. They didn't have to worry though, as Roger finally came jogging down the street, turning up the collar of his leather jacket and greeting everyone with a wave. They could tell by his attitude that things were right again between him and Mimi. Mark and Collins gave him brief pats on the back, Angel placed a hand on his upper arm, and the four friends went inside the Life Cafe.

_The six friends sit together at the back of the cafe, it's dimly lit, smelling of cigarettes and alcohol. They share a table, much too small for the amount of people sitting there. The table is loaded with drinks, paid for by Angel and Joanne. We're by far the loudest people in the whole of the cafe, but people are used to this, and nobody complains._

Collins waved a hand for the shot glasses on the tables to be refilled. Angel and Maureen sat opposite each other, waiting for a question from Collins. They were playing a fun drinking game. Collins would ask them a question, the person who got it wrong would drink a shot of vodka. This would continue until one of the contestants was too drunk to sit up properly, they would be eliminated, and replaced by a new challenger. The person left sitting at the table at the end of the night would be the winner. It was between Angel and Maureen now, after Joanne and Roger had been eliminated and given glass after glass of water to drink, in order to sober up.

"Ok...the question for this round is..." Collins began, he had been given the job of game host. He thought for a moment what he could ask his friends that would challenge them. "What is Angel's full name?" The two sat there for a moment, thinking carefully about the question. Normally it would be considered easy, but they had drunk so much that they were struggling to remember their owns names. Earlier, Roger had forgotten Angel's first name, and had insisted on calling her 'Ladyboy' for until his foot was stepped on by an annoyed 'Ladyboy'.

"I know this one!" Maureen exclaimed, jumping up from the table for a minute. "It's...It's..."

"ANGELDUMOTTSCHUNARD!" Shouted Angel, also standing up, and slurring together her line of speech.

"Correct!" Announced Collins. "Although I also would have excepted 'Ladyboy'." Angel gave him deadly stare and Collins raised his hands up in mock surrender and went to hug her.

"Oh no honey..." said Angel, sitting down and crossing her legs, "You thought I was too dumb to remember my own name..._and_ you called me Ladyboy. You can't take it back. I am soooo not talking to you." She gave a smug grin and folded her arms, clearly trying to wind Collins up.

"Aww...I didn't mean it...you obviously can remember your own name..." He struggled to justify his name calling. "And you ain't no Ladyboy..." Angel didn't take this too well and raised an eyebrow.

"The way you're going, you ain't ever gonna get to check again!" Collins winced and laughed, turning his attention away from Angel to provide Maureen with her shot of vodka, which she downed, coughing afterwards.

They played a few more rounds of the drinking game. Maureen was announced as the winner when Angel fell off her chair just bending down to pick up a quarter. The party quickly exited the Life Cafe when they had finished, before the waiter could come over and find out that they hadn't left nearly enough money to cover the bill. Maureen and Joanne left in the direction of Joanne's apartment, and everyone else started to head for the Loft. Collins was trying , in vain, to snap Angel out of her mock huff. She wasn't seriously angry with him, just having fun, making him chase after her. The two walked along in the middle of the road, Roger and Mark a few strides behind them. A car swerved right past them, the driver leaning out of the window and yelling at them, in less than kind words, to get out of the road.

"_Bese mi asno!_" Angel yelled, making a rude gesture after the car. Collins laughed and wrapped his arms around her.

"What did you say?" He asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I don't think you want to know..." Angel drawled, lighting a cigarette and passing it to Collins. He took a short drag and passed it back again.

"Are you really mad at me?" He asked into the fur of Angel's jacket. She paused for a minute trying to think up an answer.

"I'll decide later..." She turned her head and kissed his cheek, then rested her weight against him so that they both nearly fell over in the middle of the street. They were laughing so loud that they were yelled at to shut up from nearby apartments.

_The friends retire. Although I am the only one to actually go to sleep. Roger sits at the window of Mimi's apartment, waiting for her to get home from work, doing his best not to fall asleep. He does fall asleep though, but when Mimi gets home she wakes him up so that he doesn't sleep the whole night in a sitting position. Collins can't sleep. He sleeps next to Angel on the couch for the second night running. He can't sleep because he can feel her shivering next to him, all night. Angel can't sleep. She's trying to stop herself from shaking. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry...a little short, but I'm busy with school and stuff. Hope y'all like it anyway!**

_Slowly, the days begin to get warmer as we creep into February. Mimi and Roger are sticking together for once, they seem to be learning to compromise. Mimi is still weak when it comes to some stuff, but she's getting better. Angel ain't so good though. She's a little sick and Collins absolutely refuses to leave her side. They spend all their time curled up on the couch in the Loft. We've just managed to convince Roger to move into Mimi's apartment permanently, so then Angel can have his room until she's better. Open on the friends helping Roger move out, and Angel move in._

Mark gave a heavy sigh as he uncovered another box of Roger's mix tapes. Although Roger's bedroom was about the size of a box, he managed to cram a whole load of junk into it. The two were sitting on his bed and sorting through the junk. Deciding what could be thrown out, what would go with Roger to Mimi's, and what would stay in the Loft.

"Are any of these tapes actually any good?" Mark asked, brushing dusk off another box and sorting through it. Roger shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal answer.

"I recorded them about a year ago...back when I had a band..." he almost slipped into a daydream but kept his concentration, not expanding on his short answer. Mark picked a bulky tape player off one of the top shelves and put a random tape in. It was labelled with a date, when Mark read it, he realised in was from just over a year before. Roger jerked his head up when he heard the sound of guitars tuning up, and the low buzzing of the old tape player. He didn't complain about Mark playing it, just sat there with a half smile on his face, listening intently. There was the sound of Roger practising the first couple of chords, and warming his voice up a little. The other band members talking about going out that night. Then Roger was hushing them up, reminding them that they were recording. He cleared his throat. Then there was a sound of a girl asking them which song they were doing.

"Turn it off Mark," Roger said suddenly, snapping them back to the present. Mark obliged, reaching over and pulling the plug on the tape player. He turned and looked at Roger anxiously.

"Are you-" He was cut off before he could barely begin checking up on his friend.

"Why did I even think of keeping these stupid tapes?" Roger asked loudly, picking one up and throwing it harshly back into it's box. "None of them are any good!" He raised his voice and continued throwing the tapes back into the empty cardboard boxes. Mark stood up and backed against the wall, shocked by Roger's sudden temper. "Why did I even do it in the first place? It was all a waste of time...everything is!" Roger grabbed his jacket off the bed and pulled in on hurriedly, he couldn't think. "I'm going out. If Mimi asks for me, tell her I'll be back later," he mumbled a goodbye to Mark and stormed out of the apartment, slamming his bedroom door so hard that it almost came clean off the hinges.

Roger walked along the back alleys of buildings, shaking his head. Now, thanks to that tape, all he could hear was that girls voice. Playing over and over, like a stuck record. It was like a throbbing pain, hearing that voice. He had thought for a moment that she was in the room beside him, making him forget that she was never coming back.

Mark stood there for a moment, stunned. He had known, the moment he heard April's voice on the tape, that Roger would be upset. But he couldn't have predicted that he would have reacted quite so badly. It took a moment for Mark to come to his senses and actually move from his spot against the wall. He shook his head, dazed, and began to pack away the boxes. He wondered whether Roger was serious about throwing away the tapes of not, he decided to keep them and just hide them in his room or something. Maybe one day they would be important to him. Hell, they were important to him now. Mark picked up the last of the boxes and exited the bedroom, checking that Roger hadn't broken the door on his way out.

"Mark, what the hell just happened?" Mark turned to see Collins looking at him, thoroughly confused. Angel was turned over on the couch, presumably asleep.

"Is she asleep?" Mark asked, before answering his question. Collins nodded and Mark explained Roger's behaviour. "I put on one of the tapes from Roger's room. Recording of his old band...didn't even get to the start of the song," Mark bowed his head for a moment before continuing. "April was on there, just talking...but still...she was there." Collins didn't say anything for a moment, just raised his hand to his mouth in shock.

"Shit..." He mumbled finally. Mark gave a short nod of agreement.

"Who's April?" asked Angel, having been woken up by the two of them talking. She looked a few shades paler than normal, and had to cough and clear her throat a couple of times before talking, and she still sounded hoarse. But the biggest difference between when she was ill and well was the lack of make up, wig or glamorous clothing. It was almost like she was a completely different person. It was like the difference between looking at a child and an adult. "Who's April?" Angel repeated when no one offered her an answer. Collins looked at the floor before answering. It was a touchy subject.

"Roger's ex..." he said, not wanting to tell the whole story. Angel sensed the tension in the air and knew there was much more to it than that.

"Bad relationship?" She asked. Mark raised his eyebrows.

"You could say that." Collins could tell that Angel was starting to get annoyed with the lack of explanation, so took it upon himself to explain.

"Roger met her when he was with his band, over a year ago. They had the whole true love thing going on. We really thought that those two would be together forever. But no. One day, Roger comes home after being out with his friends and finds a note from April, just saying 'We've got AIDS'. Then he finds that she's killed herself." There was an empty silence before Collins could carry on. "Anyway, it was enough to throw him into depression for about a year, he only started to come out of it when he met Mimi." Collins took a deep breath and sat down on the end of the couch, telling that story always seemed to exhaust him. There was a horrible silence for a moment. Angel took a minute just to understand what she had just heard. All of Roger's behaviour actually made sense now.

"Wow...that's just...oh..." She couldn't seem to be able to piece a sentence together. She took a deep breath to say something meaningful, but all that came out was, "oh man...poor Roger."


	6. Chapter 6

**Wheee decent update. Yes, Collins is being a moody bitch (and yeah, its kinda OOC), but hopefully I'll be able to make you see his side of things in the next chapter.**

**Oh, and I totally realised I randomly started referring to Angel as 'he' at one point. You can just pretend I meant to do that :)**

**I'm loving the reveiws, please keep them coming!**

Angel gave a very melodramatic sigh and Collins finished fixing the hinges on the door. Turned out that Roger had slammed it hard enough to break the bottom hinges.

"Collins...honey...I don't like this room!" She protested for the tenth time in the past half an hour. Mark had finally finished clearing out all of Roger's old junk (he hid the boxes of old tapes in an already almost full storage room) and now Angel was meant to be moving in, although she insisted she would rather sleep on the couch then in Roger's tiny room. True, it was about the last place you would look for Angel. The room was small, with nothing more than a single bed and a bedside table. The walls were plastered with old posters of various rock bands who went out of business years ago. There was a window so small that it wasn't worth mentioning, just a smell rectangle at the top of one of the walls, letting in a beam of light that highlighted one of the mucky walls.

"I don't like this room..." Angel repeated quietly into a pillow. She was curled up on the bed, exhausted by arguing.

"I know," said Collins, swinging the door back and forth to check in was in working order. "But we can't have you on the couch. One, we keep waking you up every time we come in. Two, people sometimes want to sit on the couch, Angel." His tone came across as irritable, although he wasn't annoyed at anyone, just stressed out. He had too many worries nipping at his mind at that moment. Where had Roger gone? Why wasn't he back yet? Why wasn't the heating working? Would Angel get sicker without heating? Would she get sick and have to go to hospital? Would he be able to pay hospital bills?

"I'm sorry..." said Angel softly, tucking her knees up to her chin and leaning against the wall. "I'll stop complaining now," She said obediently, turning to look out of a window, but instead being faced with a blank wall. She had thought that maybe having her own room would be a luxury. It was the kind of things she would have dreamed about a few months ago, when she only had the streets for company, instead of a group of beautiful friends.

It was about a year ago, when she was first seriously ill. It was pouring down with rain and she was absolutely soaked to the bone, damp jeans clinging to her legs and her sweater twice as heavy with moisture, hanging off her because she had lost so much weight. Angel had stumbled into an alley, hoping that the shadow of the building would offer protection from the wind and the rain. She collapsed against the wall, grazing her cheek where it hit the harsh brick. She sat there for what felt like hours, shaking from both cold and fever, biting her lip and hoping she could live through whatever was happening to her body. She clutched on to the wall, peeling off a poster advertising some rock band, on of the details of the poster stuck out in her mind '_Vocals and lead guitar...Roger Davis'_. Before she could read any more, the poster went out of focus in a dizzy spell, she recovered coughing, horrible raking coughs that shook her whole body and scarred her throat.

"Hey! Are you okay down there?" Came a voice from somewhere above Angel. She looked up to see a girl hanging over the railings of the fire escape. Angel couldn't find her voice to respond, just coughed a few more times into the sleeve of her sweater. The was the clanging and rattling of the girl making her way down the steps. She rushed over to Angel and knelt by him, wearing very little considering the pouring rain. She didn't seem to mind though. "Oh my god...what the hell are you doing out in this weather? How old are you? Seventeen? Sixteen?" She fretted, looking Angel over. It was his face that made him look so young, he had an almost feminine look about him. Angel managed to stop coughing just long enough to laugh and answer the girl.

"I'm almost twenty one!" The girl's tanned face flushed with embarrassment at her mistake.

"Oh...sorry..." She went back to her usual attitude when Angel started furiously coughing again. She reached over and patted his back in a pathetic attempt to sooth him. "Hmm...sixteen or twenty one or however old you are, you don't look too good..." Angel shook his head a little, holding his hand up in protest. He had stopped coughing, but was back to shivering again.

"I'll...be...fine..." he said quietly, going to tuck his hair behind his ears, but then realising that he wasn't wearing a wig. It was always a shock when his hand met his real, short hair. "I'm Angel..." he managed to say to the girl. She grinned at the mention of his name, put at ease by the informality of it. She held out a hand to help him stand, as he certainly didn't look like he could manage it alone. The girl softened her expression and offered an introduction.

"I'm Mimi."

Angel was brought back to the present by the sound of her new bedroom door slamming. Collins was obviously upset about something, but she had no idea was it was, how she would ever find out, and how she could make him feel better. It was just hopeless. It was almost like he was mad at her for being sick, but that didn't make any sense. Angel couldn't help it. It was hardly like she enjoyed being sick, she was shaking too much to walk properly, her throat was raw from coughing and she could eat or drink without bringing it straight back up. Why would she enjoy that? Angel resolved that sleeping was probably the best thing to do. It seemed to be the only thing that Collins approved of right then. She lay down on the small bed, pulling the covers right over her head, hoping that when she woke up, everything would be right again.

"Oh common Collins...she's just a little sick..." Mark said, looking around the kitchen for something to eat. It was hopeless. There wasn't a single thing to eat in the whole building.

"No Mark. You don't know what it's like. In no time at all, a little sick can become very sick, and before you know it, they're gone." He looked pessimistically down at his feet, holding an empty coffee cup in hands. Mark was trying his best to cheer Collins up, everything seemed to be going wrong for him. Roger stressing out. Angel falling ill. Even though he was blowing everything way out of proportion.

"I do know Collins. Roger, Mimi, You...Angel, you're all _my_ friends too. Roger had flu three months ago. He didn't die, did he? He had it much worse than Angel does now."

"April died."

"That was different. She killed _herself_. Angel wouldn't do that. You know she wouldn't. She's too full of life."

"She thinks she is..."

"She _is_."

"Maybe...but I've made a doctor's appointment for her tomorrow. Just in case." Mark shook his head, he knew that Angel would never agree to going in to hospital, she would probably rather die then go in.

"She won't go Collins."

"She will when she understands how important this is to me. Both of you are on my back for being too paranoid. If she goes in and has this check up and everything is good, then I will relax. If she refuses to go in, then I will know there's something wrong."

"Collins...she wouldn't go in even if she was in perfect health."

"We'll see..."

"Collins..."

"Just leave me alone Mark. You think I'm being stupid. I'm not. I'm being intelligent. I'm being _realistic_. Some of you guys need lessons in realism."

Mark couldn't be bothered to argue with Collins anymore, he was being far too stubborn. Mark just shrugged and pulled on his jacket, he couldn't be with Collins when he was acting so angsty, and creating such a tense atmosphere.

"Well, I'm going to go look for Roger. It's starting to get dark." He looked straight at Collins. "Maybe I'll come back when I can talk to you." Collins narrowed his eyes in confusion. "This isn't you Collins...just stop and think what you have been saying to me for the past half an hour. You sound just like Roger."

"Well, I have a lot in common with Roger."

"It doesn't mean you have to make the same decisions as him. Please, go and wake Angel up. Tell her you love her...and tell her about going to hospital tomorrow. Please don't just spring it on her tomorrow."

"Weren't you meant to be going out?"

Mark didn't speak again, he just gave a Collins a look and walked out of the Loft, closing the door quietly behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Just some Angel/Collins stuff. My fluff is important for the storyline, I promise!**

**R&R pretty please!**

**Oh, and thank you regular reviewers, you guys make me muchly happy :)**

_It gets late. Dark. I look for Roger but can't find him. He'll probably be back tomorrow, he always comes back eventually. So I come home and get some sleep. Collins sleeps on the couch, Angel in her new bed. She's probably not asleep though. The moonlight seeps in through the dirty windows, keeping Collins from falling asleep. I bet that would be his excuse anyway._

Collins concentrated his gaze on the edge of his thin blanket, where it was frayed and slowly unravelling. He messing about with it was just making it worse, the whole side becoming tattered. He gave a heavy sigh and wondered whether to take Mark's advice, and go and talk to Angel. He didn't see the point now, she was already angry with him, and probably asleep anyway. He wished he could just have Angel understand him, and understand that he was just stressed out. He wished he hadn't even acted off with her at all. What if she didn't want to be with him anymore? What if she ended up out on the streets again? What if she got sick again and had no one to take care of her? Collins couldn't stop worries running around in his head. He felt he had to check up on Angel, just to see if she was still there. He felt like she might disappear at any moment.

He quietly opened the door to her new room, glad that the new hinge didn't squeak at all. He didn't want to be held responsible for waking her up, when it was rare that she could sleep at all. The light from the tiny window cast shadows over her already peaky face. She looked so different, so much weaker, curled up in a ball under the thin blankets. Her breathing loud and heavy with illness, occasionally broken where it was caught in her sore throat. Collins sucked in his breath and sat gingerly on the end of the bed, trying his best not to wake her up. He really wanted to lay down next to her, wrap his arms around her body and never leg go of her, and maybe that way she would stay forever. But he didn't. He just sat, and watched her sleeping. She twitched, rolled over, started coughing. Collins winced at the sound of that cough, it sounded like she taking all her insides with it. Or like she was suffocating.

Eventually the noise was too painful for Collins, and he felt like had to wake her up. He knelt down next to her and shook her gently, grabbing for the glass of water on her bedside table. It was a moment before Angel's eyes snapped open and she focused on Collins, she didn't acknowledge him for the moment, just grabbed the glass of water and gulped it down messily. When she had finished she set down the glass and stared at Collins with tired eyes

"I came in here when I heard you cough..." Collins said quietly in explanation, feeling the tension between the two of them.

"Liar," Angel said, but with a smile creeping on to her face. Collins couldn't help but smile back. He had missed seeing her smile. "I heard you come in...I was never really asleep" she explained.

"You fake that coughing fit?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Oh hell no, honey. You think I would willingly cough like that? It hurts like...I can't even think of a comparison!" For Collins, just to hear her say 'honey' was enough to improve his mood. It meant she wasn't mad at him, and that she was still herself. He knew he now had to tell her about going to the hospital the next day, she would be angry with him if he didn't pretend that was what he gone in there to tell her. That he had even thought of keeping it as a secret until the next day. It was difficult. He knew Angel wouldn't want to go in. She would probably think that she would never going to get out again. Collins reached out and took her hand, brushing his fingers against her palm gently.

"So...if you didn't come in here because I was coughing, then why did you come in?" She asked quietly, closing her hand so that she was holding tightly on to his. Collins didn't know what to say. He couldn't say, 'I wanted to check you were still there' because that would probably depress them both. He told himself to tell her about the hospital the next day.

"I felt I needed to check up on you...and ask you something," he began, but stalled at the end of his sentence, silently wishing that she would agree to everything and not be mad at him.

"What?" Angel asked eagerly, squeezing his hand gently. Collins took a deep breath before attempting to carry on.

"I want you to go into hospital...tomorrow." He felt Angel let go of his hand but didn't look up to check her facial expression before carrying on talking. "I know what you'll say. But please...I want you to go in..." He looked up for a moment and caught Angel's eye. "For me."

Angel turned her head so that she was staring straight at the wall and shook her head. Collins put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Please Angel. You don't have to be admitted, just go in and have an appointment. Then I can relax when they tell me this is nothing." Angel didn't stop shaking her head, just kept her gaze fixed on the wall and shook off Collins's touch.

"Who's gonna pay for it?" Angel asked.

"I have money saved from my last teaching job...to pay for stuff like this," Collins said, reassuring her, although she had actually been looking for a loophole in his idea, and he has just made her feel worse. He watched Angel closely, mostly just to see if she could bare to look at him. He saw her swallow.

"And what about...if it isn't nothing?" Collins didn't say anything, he sat just sat there, shocked by something negative coming out of her mouth. She turned to look him straight in the eye. "What if we go, and they tell you that I only have a week to live? Wouldn't we be better not knowing?" Now Collins was the one to turn away. He hadn't imagined things could go that way. He had had it all set out in his head; they would go to the hospital, get Angel checked out and the doctor would say it was just flu and she should just drink plenty of liquids. She would get better and they would live happily ever after. He tried to think of something to say back. Something to prove he was right.

"If that was the case, then we would come home...and live our whole lives in a week. We would be ready," He sat on the bed, right next to Angel, pulling her away from the wall and into his arms. He held her there for a moment in silence, just listening to her breathing, and try to speculate what was running through her mind. "Angel..." he whispered quietly, and she turned to look at him.

"What?" She asked softly.

"If you don't do this...and something happens...then for the rest of my life, I'll have this little voice in my head. This little voice saying 'maybe if Angel had gone to the hospital, she would be here to buy that skirt...or to tell Roger he's complaining too much...or Angel would be here to say something tasteless in Spanish, and make everybody laugh. If Angel had just gone to the hospital, I wouldn't be back where I began, stuck in a dead end job like someone has pressed the pause button on my life.'" Collins stopped talking for a moment, he couldn't carry on for all the emotions that were suddenly flooding into him. Sadness, that Angel would leave him one day, or he would leave her. Love...love that she was in his arms, and Collins could feel her breathing on his face. He took a deep breath to finish what he had been saying. "You're changed my life too much...changed it too much to leave it now. So please, do this for me...this one thing...just...please." Collins exhaled slowly once he had finished, exhausted by confession everything that was on his mind, he had to push hard for each word.

Angel reeled a little, she was shocked by everything that Collins had said. It felt like it was her duty to stay with him. When she thought about it, she could understand everything he was saying, she just had to see the situation through Collins's eyes. If he was sick, Angel would do anything she could to make sure he stayed with her. Even if it meant forcing him into hospital. But now, she couldn't help but see it. A doctor walking out and telling her that she only had a week. Seconds slipping through her fingers and nothing that the two of them could do about it. She could fall asleep now and never see him again. It horrible to know that she couldn't control what her body would decide for her. Angel felt a pain rise in her throat, and not from her illness. Tears slipped down her cheeks and soaked her shirt. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't do anything but cling to Collins and whisper that she loved him. Collins couldn't do anything either, he felt her shaking with sobs and tried to hold her still, planting kisses on her forehead. He shhhed her, rocking her back and forth a little.

"It's ok Angel...we're going to be together forever...I know it." She held back her sobs for a moment, to look up at him.

"Are we?" She asked rhetorically, but Collins responded anyway.

"Yes. If you ever believe one word I say, believe that."


	8. Chapter 8

**Loooooong chapter. Yes, more Angel/Collins, but next chapter will be other characters, I promise.**

**I just had to get this out of the way first.**

**Now I'm going to go to bed, because 2,500 words made me exhausted.**

**x**

When the sun seeped through the tiny window in Angel's room, she had never felt more like pulling the sheets over her head and going back to sleep. Usually, unless she had a hangover, when Angel woke up, she was looking forward to all the things she could do and get done in that day. But today, she wished she could wind time back a few hours and remain asleep. There was the sound of Collins knocking on the bedroom door. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep, his soft side would get the better of him and he would leave her alone for the rest of the day? No such luck. Collins kept knocking. Angel put her head under the pillow in the hope of blocking out all sound and light, but it was too late. She was already wide awake and she knew it.

"Annngeelll...we have to go in thirty minutes..." came Collins's voice, muffled from the other side of the door. Angel wished there was a stop button somewhere. She would stop and go back to sleep, and go to the hospital when she felt like it, which would probably be never. Reluctantly, she shifted so that her arm hung over the side of the bed, and she could feel around on the floor for some clothes. Probably painfully normal clothes, seen as they were going to one of those places where six inch heels just wouldn't be appropriate. She groped around until she managed to get hold of jeans and a sweater. She managed to dress messily, all without moving her head from under the pillow.

"You never cease to amaze me..." came Collins voice, this time from inside the room. Angel jumped about half a mile and finally moved the pillow away from her face. She then threw it at Collins.

"You creep! You shouldn't sneak up on me like that...especially when I'm dressing, that's just wrong!" Collins just leant against the wall and laughed at Angel, happy that he finally got her to appear more awake. Angel just shook her head and sat up, tidying the sheets on the bed and kicking the spare clothes into a pile in the corner.

"How are you feeling about today?" Collins asked, handing Angel a cup of coffee and examining her expression with apparent concern. She took the cup and gave a blunt answer.

"Shit." Collins couldn't stop another smile creeping into the corners of his mouth. Even when she was pissed off, Angel never failed to make him smile a little. He sat on the bed next to her and raised a hand to her forehead, checking for fever and running his fingers through her short hair. "Cut it out..." she muttered, grinning and pushing Collins's hand away. "I'm feeling ok health wise, ironically enough. Just a bit nauseous, but I suspect that's just my nerves." Angel raised a shaped eyebrow at Collins and smirked, "In case you didn't guess last night, I hate hospitals. Had to go last year with Mimi, she OD'd and was really messed up. They treated us like something off the bottom of their shoes in that place. Especially when we told them why she was sick. By the look an their faces you would have though I'd said 'she's sick because she exhausted herself killing someone' Like getting sick is a crime." Angel shook her head and pulled on her shoes, handing an empty cup back to Collins, who set it down on the bedside table.

"They won't treat you like that Ang..." Collins began, interrupted by a doubtful laugh from Angel.

"Surely you went in for the tests, to find out if you were positive or not?" Angel passed an expectant look to Collins, who responded with a slow nod. "So you must have seen the response when those smug doctors give you the results. There's two different responses. The first is that they look at you like you're scum. Like you've just been found guilty for murder, or rape or something else disgusting. They want you out of the hospital before you can try and hit on them or something." Angel gave a little spiteful laugh, shocking Collins with her bitterness. "The second is worse I think. They give you the results, and they put on this 'I'm so sorry face' but underneath their eyes you can see that they're smiling. They take one look at you, especially if you're a guy, and they can sleep soundly at night knowing you'll be dead within a year, a month...a week." Collins frowned deeply and stopped Angel before she could carry on, upset by the negativity. He knew Angel was only trying to convince him against taking to her to the hospital, but the words she was saying still hurt him.

"Just leave it out. I said they won't treat you like that," Collins said firmly, putting on a strict tone to make Angel believe him. She didn't bother to argue, just shook her head to herself. Collins wondered what Mark and Roger would think, if they could see Angel acting like she was. But he knew that she would never act like this in front of them. She would be all smiles and fluffy bunnies when they stepped out of the bedroom. In a way, Collins understood, she couldn't stay happy forever, especially when she wasn't. He told himself that this was her day off from her job. Being the positive one in the group was her job.

As they approached the tall, white building, Angel buried her face in Collins's shoulder. The long journey seemed so much shorter when you didn't want to reach your destination. She felt like she would get the sick the moment she stepped through the glass doors. She did feel sick, but it was all nerves, she told herself anyway. Or it was the permanent sickness she felt since she had come down with something the week before.

"Ugh...Collins...honey...why does everything have to be gross color schemes?" She clutched at the sleeve of his jacket as they walked through the main entrance, Collins busy concentrating on finding his way around. "I mean...green and orange. Can we say clash?" Collins didn't reply, so Angel just continued to complain to herself, shuddering at the slightest thing. There was a lot of aimless wandering before Collins found the waiting room they were looking for, and talked to the woman at the desk. Angel sat down on a stiff, orange, plastic chair, and folded her arms moodily. Several women looked up from their three-month-old magazines when she gave a loud sigh. They stared at her rudely, and Angel was greatly tempted to say something that would get both her and Collins kicked out of the hospital. But she pursed her lips, and waited for Collins to finish with the secretary. When he sat down in another of the stiff, orange, plastic chairs, Angel turned to him immediately.

"Collins...why is everyone staring at us like that?" She whispered quietly, only further provoking more of the probing stares. Collins gave an off hand shrug.

"They're wondering whether you're single or not...well we better sort that question out..." Collins leaned over and kissed Angel gently on the lips. Instantly, the room was alive with disapproving gasps, tsks and sighs of annoyance. Angel couldn't help but blush and giggle, enjoying a few seconds of happiness before deciding that she needed to visit the bathroom, due to a sudden rush of nausea.

"Ugh...I'll right back...I need to find the bathroom," Angel stood up a little shakily, feeling a dizzy spell come on suddenly. Collins put his bag on Angel's seat to save it, and looked up at her, giving a wink.

"And I'll join you there in a couple of minutes, right?" He grinned, and was responded with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"If you really want to see me throw up, then sure...and if you do, I reeeaaally don't think we should be together..." Angel joked, giving him a toothy grin. "I'll be right back honey..." Collins was left alone with only an array of horrified women for company.

Angel stood and stared at herself in the mirror. She ran a finger along her cheekbones, which were becoming more visible every day, a hollow developing beneath them. She stared deeply, at the shadows under her eyes, her thin lips. She could see bruises all up her arms, on her legs when she pulled up her jeans. Bruises that were just from normal contact, but her body refused to heal tiniest knock, so they just kept building up. Purple smudges dotted on her skin, streaking up her ribs when she dared to lift up her sweater. Angel pulled her gaze away, splashing water on her face and preparing herself to sit with Collins again.

"Ok...now do you get pain in any particular area?" Asked the doctor, poking several points in Angel's face, making it difficult for him to get an answer out. Collins watched with amusement from a chair next to the bed that Angel was sat on. Apparently, she didn't take too kindly to being poked and prodded by some guy that she didn't know. Especially one whose breath smelt like bad coffee, as Angel had informed Collins when the doctor had stepped out of the room to get something else to poke Angel with.

"Well...my nose hurts when you keep poking it-" Angel began, but was cut short by Collins pinching her hand from where he was sat. He did this every time that Angel started to say anything mildly rude to the doctor, which was surprisingly often. She sighed, and wondered if he meant internal pain, like lungs or stomach or whatever, or pain on the skin, like from those hundreds of bruises. Angel had managed to avoid revealing any of them to Collins. She had been sleeping alone every night for the past week, so Collins hadn't had a chance to see them, plus it would be dark anyway. She knew that Collins would freak out if he say those bruises, he would want Angel wrapped up in cotton wool for the rest of her life. She took a breath and realised she hadn't properly answered the doctor's question. "Um...not really...I get a pain in my stomach when I'm sick sometimes, but I think its just because I'm giving my stomach muscles a tough time..." Angel joked, although the doctor didn't notice, he just walked across the room to check the notes that sat on his desk. He scribbled something on a piece of paper, put his pen behind his ear, and turned back to Angel.

"Right, can you take your shirt off Mr Schunard." Angel could have easily picked one of many dirty jokes that were forming in his head, but instead he was occupied with what he had just been asked to do. Collins would see. Angel knew she would never hear the end of it if Collins say the state that she was truly in.

"What?" Angel asked dumbly, hoping that delaying it might mean that Collins suddenly went blind or decided he needed to use the bathroom really bad.

"I need to take a look at your stomach...if that's where you're getting pain..." Angel took a breath and prepared herself for a tough reaction. She slowly pulled her sweater over her head, trying to pretend she couldn't feel Collins suddenly tightening his grip on her hand. True, she wasn't a pretty sight. For a start, she was a whole lot slimmer than she had been a month ago, the raking lines of her ribs were clearly visible through her skin, patterned with purple bruising where skin was even thinner and more delicate than everywhere else. There was a big greeny purple mark along the side she had slept on the night before. There was a spot, just below her waist, where she had hit her side on the edge of the kitchen counter. Usually, something like that would just cause a small bruise, but there was a huge dark patch, almost black with color. The doctor didn't say anything, just hummed and poked a couple of the bruises, making Angel flinch.

"I think you're okay..." said the doctor quietly, moving back over to his desk to scribble a few more notes. Angel hurriedly pulled her sweater back on, not even daring to look Collins in the eye.

"Ok...that's cool..." She said quietly, picking her bag off the floor. "So what's been up with me then?" The doctor pushed his glasses up his nose and studied his notes.

"Just a little infection...your body is managing to fight it. Just do your best to help your body out, take care not to get too cold, too hot, drink plenty of liquids." He leaned over and handed Angel a little slip of paper. "There is a prescription for antibiotics anyway, just to be safe. You pick that up from the Chemists downstairs." Angel felt a wide grin spread across her face when she was realised it was as simple as taking some medicine.

"Thank you so much!" She trilled, almost as if the doctor was responsible for what her body was managing to do. There had been a moment, that morning, when Angel had been certain that she was going to receive a death sentence of sorts. But she just had to rest. Rest and take medicine.

"It's no problem," smiled the doctor, who had been generally relaxed about the whole thing. "If you start to feel seriously ill, you must admit yourself though. You can never be too safe." Angel gave an understanding nod, although she was making a vow inside her head that she would never have to step foot in a hospital again, because she had survived this time.

Despite Angel's good news, the journey home was a silent one. Collins didn't say a word regarding the hospital, the good news, even the bruises. He just sat there, eyes on something in the subway that was invisible to Angel. Eventually she couldn't take it anymore, grabbed his arm and shook him.

"I'm glad you convinced me to go sweetie...I feel much better now that I know I will be just fine." Angel watched him expectantly, but there was no reply, or sign that he had even heard her. "Aren't you glad?" She prompted, shaking him again. Collins turned his head to look at her, his eyes full of something that she just couldn't understand.

"Of course I'm glad..." he said softly. "It's just that this isn't the end of this. The problem is still there, just subdued." Angel bowed her head and concentrated on her fingernails, which were looking horrible lately.

"Well we'll just have to live with our problems."

"We can't _live_ with them, that's the point."

Angel reached over and grasped his hand.

"We're doing pretty good so far."


	9. Chapter 9

**Just a fun little chapter :)**

**Buuut some of the stuff will probably be important for the storyline, so stay tuned!**

**Oh, and review please, 'cause that makes me happeeeee!**

_We jump to the night following Angel's day at the hospital. Her and Collins are curled up in bed together. Very sweet. A floor below, Roger sits at the window of Mimi's apartment, waiting for her to get home. Ever since the April incident, he seems a lot more connected with Mimi. Which is weird, me and Collins thought he would be back to his reclusive state. He has his guitar laid across his lap, but doesn't touch it, just stares solidly at the strings, hoping that they will somehow strum out their own chords._

Roger muttered old song lyrics under his breath to keep himself awake. His eyelids felt like lead, but he had promised Mimi that he would be up when she got back from work, and he really wanted to keep the promise. He considered sneaking upstairs and stealing some of Mark's stash of precious instant coffee. Yes...caffeine would be really good. While Roger's mind was occupied, his eyes had taken this chance to close again, and it was a struggle to pull them open once more. When he felt the cold moisture of frosted glass hit his forehead, he knew he had drifted off and sat up straight again, wiping his face with his sleeve and waiting for the sound of Mimi's keys clicking in the lock.

It was another hour before that sound woke Roger. He leapt up from the place he had been sitting to meet her at the door, proud that he had, for once, managed to stay awake...well...half awake. Mimi finally appeared in the doorway, dark shadows under her eyes from exhaustion, although she look bright and wide awake when her features were lit up with a smile.

"Roger!" She exclaimed, but still not bringing her voice above a whisper.

She was happy to have her normal routine broken for once. Ever since Roger had made her get clean, every night would be the same. She would go to work, almost glad for the distraction from other things that troubled her, then she would start the walk home, and cravings would kick in. She would shake, get violent stomach cramps, her head would pound and it would feel like she couldn't possibly be helping herself. Then Mimi would get to her apartment, find Roger asleep, exhausted from waiting up for her. She would go to sleep, or try to, her mind suppressing pain and keeping back the guilt she felt for keeping Roger up, endless nights.

Roger gave her a brief hug, rubbing his eyes when he hoped that Mimi wasn't looking.

"How was tonight?" He asked, pouring a glass of water for himself, and another for Mimi. She walked over to the beat-up couch and flopped down on it, sweeping brown curls from her face with a flick of her fingers.

"Better," she lied. Tonight had been the same as any other, but she didn't want to let on that her withdrawal wasn't improving. She reached up and took the glass from Roger, gulping the liquid down hungrily. She silently wished that they had something in the apartment to eat, but she didn't make her opinion heard. Her and Roger were content, and she didn't want to disturb the delicate balance by stupid complaints.

"Damn, I could so go for coffee and donuts right now..." Roger said suddenly, seeming like he had read Mimi's mind. She gave a laugh and set her glass down, checking in her pocket hopefully for a few dollars.

"Sorry, I'm broke...anyway, are you a cop or somethin'?" She gave him a wide grin, playfully reaching over and pinching him on the arm. "Coffee and donuts...seriously, whatever happened to a proper meal?" Roger smiled back and crossed his arms.

"A proper meal? Are you my mother or somethin'?" He mocked her accent, stepping away before she could jump at him and succeed in pulling his hair.

_Cut to late morning the next day. Our heroes are lounging around in the loft. There is not nearly enough coffee and entertainment to go around, but since when has that mattered? We have Angel and Mimi to provide us with a little extra._

"Ok...where the hell did you get this money?" Mimi asked, she was sat, cross legged, at the end of the couch. She was gawping at Angel, who was across from her, casually fanning herself with a handful of dollars. Angel was back to her usual self, decked out in a colorful and bizarre outfit (featuring leopard print tights and a lot of very bright pink fluff). She was also back to her usual trick of producing large amounts of money from nowhere.

"I can't tell you Mimi! I like being mysterious...it's part of my image, ya know?" Angel put down her money on the coffee table and began the slow process of painting her nails a bright, lime green. This clashed with ninety percent of the colors that Angel was wearing, but clashing colors was also part of her 'image'. The nail polish had been one of the first things that had been purchased with Angel's money, that and the tights. Apart from coffee, that had been hastily shared among all the friends in the Loft, she hadn't bought anything else.

Collins shook his head from the corner where he had been standing. He had woken up without Angel next to him, and had been horribly worried until she arrived back an hour later, wearing a huge smile and handing him money. She hadn't explained to him how she had got it, either.

"Mimi...you get used to the random money...I wouldn't even bother asking," Collins advised, sipping his cup of coffee. Mimi nodded in understanding but still had an edge of curiosity on her voice.

"Yeah, I know. I lived with Angel, remember? I know what she's like. I also know that you sometime need to know where she gets her money!" Mimi reached over and shook Angel's arm, making her hand slip and a line of lime green polish spread appear across the back of her hand.

"Mimi!" She yelled with annoyance, quickly rubbing at her hand before it could be stained.

"Angel! You remember that time when you stole that woman's mink coat, because it 'looked better on you?'" Angel recalled with a big smile on her face. It had looked better on Angel.

"Yeah..." She said wistfully, wishing she still had that coat.

"Yeah? Well you'll also remember that the same woman came to our door _asking_ for her coat. Luckily, I knew you had taken it, so was able to throw it out before she saw it lying on the couch." Angel recalled that memory less fondly.

"I'm still mad at you for that! I could have so taken that bitch...I looked better in that coat then her anyway..." Mimi shook her head, unable to show Angel anymore sense then she had already tried to. Collins couldn't help but laugh. Poor Mimi. She was trying her best to make Angel be sensible, but her efforts were entirely futile. He walked over and crouched on the floor next to Angel.

"Angel...I hate to do this...but I'm taking that nail polish if you don't tell us where you got the money."

This didn't go down well. There was a couple of violent minutes of screaming, scratching, and spilt nail polish. Mark and Roger watched in amusement from their seats at the window. They didn't dare go and join the arguing. They valued their lives, and that meant not trying to take any of Angel's purchases away from her.

Eventually the scene calmed down. Collins ended up on the floor, a few red marks lacing his arms where he had faced resistance. But he was successful, and in his hand, clutched the bottle of green polish, as far away from Angel as he could hold it. Mimi was holding Angel down, her knuckles white with pressure as she pinned Angel's hands together.

"I hate both of you..." She muttered sniffily, burying her face in the material of the couch. Collins got up and put the polish away in the refrigerator, where no one was likely to ever look. Mimi let go of Angel and moved away from the couch. Leaving a huffy Angel lying face down on the couch. She didn't move for a few minutes, just lay there. Collins sighed and walked over, placing a hand on her back.

"Come on Ang...don't be stupid. Will you tell us where you got the money from? We'll give you the polish back..." Collins tried to gently joke and bargain with her, but Angel was having none of it. Angel sat up with such speed that Collins was almost knocked backwards. Then she pulled his black skull cap from off his head. Before anyone could stop her, she jumped up, raced across the room into her room, slamming and locking the door behind her. Collins sat there puzzled for a moment, and the room was silent before Mark said the first thing he had for twenty minutes now.

"I guess she really likes that nail polish."

Collins paused and ran a hand over his head, wishing he could have his hat back, before replying.

"No shit."


	10. Chapter 10

**Next chapter! Sorry for the delay, but I've been in hospital for the past few days.**

**So the first half of this chapter sucks, because I was sick when I wrote it.**

**Think this is some creepy revenge from the rent-gods because I made Angel sick? **

**Uh oh...guess I won't be able to kill her off for a loooong time.**

"Come on Angel! This is so dumb!"

_Well it's three hours later. Angel still hasn't come out of her room. Collins is leaning against the door, still begging. We could use that money of Angel's to buy some lunch, and we're really tempted to take it out of her bag and run off, but we're not that desperate. Plus, we don't want Angel any more annoyed than she already is. It's pretty scary. As nice as she is, sometimes Angel is a little fierce. She has long nails you see._

"No! Go _away_ Collins...I'm not coming out!" Came Angel's pinching voice from the other side of the door. It was about the third time she had delivered the same reply. Collins still hadn't gone away, and Angel still hadn't come out of the room Mimi affirmed what Angel said.

"She's not coming out..." she muttered, examining her chipped nails and twirling a brown curl around one finger. Collins knocked at the door again, but Angel didn't even bother to reply. Collins sighed and slumped against the cold door, pretty much giving up. Roger and Mark exchanged glances and tried not to laugh. Seeing him reduced to begging was not a common sight, and they were making the most of it. Roger glanced over at Collins and passed a tactless comment.

"You look funny without a hat on." This for some unknown reason, made both him and Mark start laughing hysterically, so much that they were almost falling off their chairs. Mimi rolled her eyes, and covered her laughs with a fake coughing fit. Collins muttered something that contained a few less-than polite words.

After a few minutes more of Collins's begging and Angel's silence, there was a knock at the door, breaking the dull pattern of conversation in the room. Mimi and Collins threw questioning looks at Mark and Roger.

"We're not expecting anyone..." Mark began, getting up and walking over to the door to open it, "maybe Maureen or-" he was cut short as he saw who was on the other side of the door, with a letter that looked suspiciously like a bill in his hand. "Benny."

"That's my name," he said brightly, inviting himself inside the loft. Everyone's expressions suddenly changed to a silent loathing, although Benny tended to act as though he didn't notice, or didn't care. Mark suspected that it was probably the latter. Mimi suddenly pretended to be very interested in the pattern on her skirt. "The past couple of months rent..." Benny explained, opening the letter and holding it in Mark's face. He sighed and pulled it from Benny's hand, scanning it quickly, even though he knew they couldn't pay it. Suddenly, he noticed a change in the amount they owed.

"What the hell?...What is this?" He stabbed a point on the letter with his finger. "Five hundred dollars 'excess'?" He read off the paper, frowning at Benny. Roger walked over and read the letter over Mark's shoulder, growling in disbelief.

"Excess? Benny, we don't owe any freakin' excess!" Benny raised his hands in defence, then offered an explanation.

"It's to replace the money you stole..." There were sounds of annoyance and outrage from Mark, Roger, Mimi and also Collins, who had now stood up from the floor. Him and Mimi walked over to take a look at the letter, and give Benny accusing stares.

"We haven't stolen anything! What the hell are you talking about?" Roger raised his voice sharply, throwing the paper at Benny and giving him a short shove. Benny didn't react, just stood there and stared solidly at the four of them.

"It's there. On the paper..." Benny said, almost as if he expected the bohemians to except that as an explanation. Collins shook his head and passed a threatening look.

"This is too far Benny. First you break your promise, and start charging us rent. Now...now you're claiming we're stealing? Have you lost your mind?" Collins was generally laid back, and not the kind of person you wanted to get angry, he was pretty well built. Benny didn't seem phased. He remained perfectly calm, as if he was asking the group what the weather was like. This made the rest of them angrier. Benny sure had guts coming to them and demanding even _more_ money then was owed. Collins looked around at everyone's faces, they all looked the same as he did. If anyone had actually stolen from him, the guilt have shown up on their faces. Benny noticed how confused all of them looked.

"I'm not joking guys. One of you did steal from me." Roger looked like he was about to explode, so Benny figured he would probably need to offer a little more explanation. He started to walk across the Loft, watched curiously by the bohemians. He stopped at the couch, and picked up one of their bag's from it.

"What are you doing?" Collins asked loudly, rushing over and attempting to pull it the bag out of his hands. "That's not your stuff, put it down!" He tugged it out of Benny's hand so that the bag fell to the floor and its contents spilled everywhere. Lip gloss and a couple of coins rolled under the couch. A set of keys, some cigarettes and a joint hit the hard wood floor. Followed by some drumsticks and a shiny credit card, with Benny's name printed on it in big silver letters. After the rattle of things hitting the floor, the room seemed strangely silent, apart from a gasp from Mimi. Benny sighed.

"There. Proof." He bent down and picked the card off the floor, putting it in his pocket. "I'm doing you guys a favor. I _could_ just go to the police, and have her arrested. But I'm giving you a chance to replace the money." There was no reply from the group. Just a cold and stony silence. Benny walked over to the door and exited, but not before saying, "You're welcome!"

_After this news we just hang around. Angel is still silent and in her room. To be completely truthful, although it's not very bohemian of us, we're mad at her. How are we ever going to find five hundred dollars to pay Benny back? Well we solved the mystery of how she got the money anyway...must have bumped into Benny that morning and pick-pocketed it. Mimi is going on and on about 'how we all make mistakes...' but she's worrying too. Me and Roger decide to take Collins out for a drink, with the little money that actually belongs to us. We're going to leave Mimi to straighten things out with Angel._

Mimi had replaced Collins, sitting next to the closed door of Angel's bedroom. Lying on her back, her legs propped up against the wall, she counts the money that Angel left out, seeing exactly how much needed to be collected and given to Benny. She was keeping a constant monologue going in case Angel was bothering to listen.

"I told them Ang! I told them that you just made a mistake. I'm right aren't I? You made a mistake and you won't do it again and everybody should just forget about it. Of course, Benny won't let it go, he never does. Still charging them rent after a year of them not being able to afford it...can you believe it?" She asked, hoping for an answer, although there wasn't one, so she continued anyway. "It's _obvious_ they'll never pay. Although Mark has been stupidly talking about that Buzzline thing. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't take a job with them unless he absolutely had to...which I guess he kinda does now...maybe you could kill another dog? NOT Benny's this time. I have this kinda feeling that he has a grudge against you, you know? Like he suspects the dog thing, and now this is his chance to get you back. Well we'll get _him_...not sure how, but we will!" Mimi turned to the door as if she expected it to answer...or at least open. "Angel...it's just me. There's no one else here. Please make me stop talking to the door, I feel like a psycho!" There was finally the wonderful sound of movement on the other side of the door, and the even more wonderful sound of the lock clicking open. Mimi jumped up to her feet so that she could pull Angel into a big hug. "Oh Ang!" She said into Angel's shoulder. Her friend stiffened at first, but then relaxed and hugged her back. It didn't last for long though, and quickly, Angel released Mimi and started searching for all the things that had been tipped out of her bag.

"Why the fuck is all my stuff over the floor?" She had acidly, a tone that was rarely heard in her voice. Mimi bent down and collected all the things quickly, putting them in Angel's bag and handing it to her.

"It was Benny...blame him...for all of this," She tried to console Angel, resting her hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. Angel didn't react, she just shrugged off Mimi's hand and began to pick other things up and put them in the bag. All of Benny's money went in, one of her jackets, her shoes that were on the floor. Mimi soon began to realise that she was taking all of her possessions that were in the Loft. "Angel what are you doing?" She asked desperately, grabbing Angel's hands in attempt to stop her moving about and packing up all of her things.

"I'm just going for a walk is all..." she said nonchalantly, putting on her boots and pulling on her red jacket. She pushed Mimi's hands away. "I'll be back soon. I just need to be on my own for a while, ok?" Mimi frowned at Angel, thoroughly confused.

"Then why are you taking all your stuff?" She asked, so desperate for an answer that tears were beginning to gather in the corners of her eyes. If Angel was going to do what it looked like, then she was bound to start crying at any moment. She grabbed Angel's sleeve trying to pull her into eye contact. Angel shrugged her off again, and walked across the room to the door, pulling it open. She finally turned around, placing her hands on Mimi's thin shoulders and looking her in the eyes.

"Take care Mimi...look after Roger. He needs you more than he lets on. I love you..." Angel began, tears springing to her brown eyes. Mimi cut her short.

"What are you talking about? Why are you talking like that? You're not going, are you?" The tears in her eyes began to tumble down her cheeks, choking her words. "Why? Angel, this is dumb!-" Mimi had to stop talking because Angel pulled her into a hug, she could feel the sobs through her body. She had a horrible feeling that if she let go, she wouldn't see Angel again.

"I'll be back..." Angel said, through tears, "I promise...soon...I promise..." she managed to pull Mimi away and give her one last look. "I promise." Then before Mimi could argue, she walked through the door and closed it behind her, wiping away tears that were blurring her make up.

The door closed with a solid, final sound. Mimi collapsed against it, wishing she had the strength or the words to pull her friend back to her. But all she could do was cry. Shaking...her throat and eyes stinging with sobs. She pulled her eyes open for a moment, and spotted Angel's drumsticks lying under the couch. Mimi gasped and rushed across the room to grab them. Angel would have to come back to fetch them! She picked up the drumsticks and rushed out of the loft. Mimi thundered down the flights of stairs, the cold punching her bare feet and the metal railings squeaking with the sudden impact. She reached the front door, and pulled it open, but it was too late. The door opened on to an empty street.

Mimi sat in the doorway, her hand releasing the drumsticks so that they clattered on to the side walk. Curls of dark hair fell in Mimi's eyes, covering up the appearance of fresh tears.


	11. Chapter 11

**Updatttee!**

**And it's a short one, sorry! I promise that the next chapter will be longer than this. I was just a little blocked and thought that the end was a good place to end.**

**So review, because I love reviews!**

Mimi sat there for what felt like 10 minutes. Really, there were hours and hours passing. The sun pushed down over the horizon, the sky growing steadily darker. She didn't move though, just sat there, getting colder and colder. Maybe if she waited long enough, Angel would come back.

It was Mark, Roger and Collins who came home though, swaying a little from one beer too much and laughing together. They were immediately quiet when they saw Mimi in the doorway. Roger sprinted over to her, his mind already working at what could be wrong with her. Was she hurt? Using again? Had she taken too much? He pulled his jacket off and covered her with it. He put an arm around her and hushed her quietly.

"It's ok...Mimi...what's wrong?" Mimi didn't answer, just shook her head and cleared her throat a couple of times, trying her best to pull herself together. She told herself she was being ridiculous. Angel had promised to be back soon, and she never broke her promises. Collins and Mark joined them on the steps. Collins quickly spotted the drumsticks lying on the sidewalk and picked them up with a confused expression on his face. As soon as suspicions began to form in his mind, he sprinted up the stairs to the Loft, followed slowly by Mark. Roger and Mimi stayed on the steps.

As soon as he opened the door to the Loft, he knew she was gone. It was like someone had turned the color down so the whole place was black and white. It didn't stop Collins rushing around, checking her room for any of her things. But he realised that Angel, and all of her possessions were gone.

"Where is she?" Collins spun round to Mark, who had only just arrived at the door. Mark took a minute to figure out what he was talking about, but then realised. How could you notice straight away? It was like the apartment was about ten times bigger, yet with half of the things in. Empty space. Roger and Mimi finally appeared, and Mimi rushed over to comfort and explain things to a shocked Collins.

"She said she'd be back soon...she promised...said something about clearing her head..." Mimi tried to explain, putting a hand on Collins's shoulder. He nodded, and sat down on the couch in defeat.

"Did she need to take all of her things to clear her head?" he asked helplessly. Nobody answered.

_What's the time? Well...it's gotta be close to Midnight. Everybody is asleep, an early night was very needed. Actually, I lie, not everybody is asleep. Collins is very awake. Not surprisingly, he can't sleep. He's worried sick. He tried to go looking for her earlier but we stopped him. Wondering around in the dark won't do him any good. Mimi says that Angel will probably come back in her own time. But I'm not really sure she's asleep either. Anyway we close up on Collins. He's sat on the couch, legs resting on the arm of it._

Collins held Angel's drumsticks in his hand. Running his fingers over the smooth wood and wishing that their owner were beside him. What was worse was not knowing. He had no idea where she was, if she would be back, if she was ok. It was killing him. With all of her things gone, it was like she had never been there in the first place. Like he had made her up one day when he was bored and feeling down. Collins's thoughts were driving him crazy. He had to do something, he couldn't just stay there thinking all night. He got up and picked up his coat from where he had lazily tossed it earlier. Pulling it on, he glanced out of the window. Rain was coming down hard and fast outside. Big droplets that pounded the window like bullets. Worry itched in the back of his mind. Was Angel stuck out there? Her clothes soaked through so that they were clinging to her, weighing her down? Was she cold? Shivering? The thoughts hurt him, but spurred Collins on, and he ran out into the pouring rain.

Collins tried to think of all the places she could be. The Life Cafe? No...it was getting far too late, it would be closed...plus she wouldn't go there without her friends. He passed by the huge building where Joanne and Maureen shared an apartment. He almost considered finding them and asking them if they had seen Angel. But it would be stupid. They were probably both fast asleep. Collins tried to ignore the feeling of water soaking his shoes. Numbness setting it. The rain was persistent, keeping a constant pounding rhythm against everything.

Collins passed an alley way, looking quickly to see if anyone was there. He could tell straight away that it was empty, but something made him walk down in. Something made him sit, slumped again the wall. Maybe it was because he had been walking for blocks and was exhausted. Maybe it was something else.

"_You okay honey?" Came a soft voice. At first, Collins had thought that voice belonged to a woman, half by the terms it used, and half by its soft tone. It surprised him when he turned his head and came face to face with a young boy. In New York, it was normal that nobody gave a shit about you. You pass people on the streets who won't be there the next day. You don't think about it, you just go on with your own life. That's what matters. Collins was at a new low, although he didn't show it. He had lost his job, his home, had to move back to New York where he could share an apartment with his old friends. Now he was freezing cold in an alley, all his possessions gone. He had nothing._

_Then he had met Angel, and she gave him everything. Angel herself had nothing. She had no home, living on the streets. She had no life ahead of her, AIDS had already ruined her. She had never had an education. She had no family. But Angel had something, and Collins didn't know what it was. Whatever 'it' was. Maybe it was just that. Physically, Angel had nothing, but she still managed to give so much. _

Collins sniffed. He asked himself what he was doing sat there, he wasn't going to find Angel if he stayed sat in the same spot. The rain had eased to a light shower. Collins found the effort to check his watch. It was almost three in the morning. He had been sitting in that alley for hours, it had only felt like a few minutes to him. He pulled himself to his feet and started to head in the vague direction of the Loft.

"_Tom Collins...isn't that a drink?" She asked, flicking the little mint, that hotels always give you, off her pillow and on to the floor. She then flopped straight on the bed, lying on her stomach and staring at Collins in a way that might make some people uncomfortable._

"_Yep...Tom Collins, straight up...best drink ever..." He said, smiling and returning an equally bold stare._

"_Straight up? I hope not..." She said, a smile creeping on to her face. He laughed at how forward she was. She knew what she could get away with, and that was almost anything with him. Collins to a seat on the bed next to Angel._

"_No straight up Tom Collins? Well how about...Sex on the Beach? Or a Kiss in the Dark?" He suggested. Angel gave a smile._

"_Oh honey! Those sound like a nice idea..." She pulled at his shoulder so that he lay down next to her, wrapping her arms around his middle. "You know a lot of drinks, huh?" Collins nodded, noticing how nice it felt to be so close to her. Like he belonged there._

"_I know them all. Sex in the parking lot, Sex on the lake, Sex on the pool table, Sex on the sidewalk...all drinks." Angel giggled. "Oh...there's more...Slow Comfortable Screw...slow comfortable screw up against the wall...Get Laid...Between the Sheets..." Angel pressed a finger against her lips, to get him to stop listing cocktails._

"_Pick one," She said quietly, with a smile that she couldn't hold back._

**Thanks to my sister for all the cocktails names, she's a bartender and knows the list by heart!**

**I couldn't resist using some of them at some point!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Another short one sigh**

**Alas, I am busy these days.**

**R&R, and I promise you that something will actually happen in the next Chapter!**

Collins was lying, on his stomach, on the floor. He was deep in reading some battered philosophy text book. He hadn't been anywhere near a book for three months now, because Angel was always entertaining him, giving him something to do. Now he was back to reading, to keep his mind busy. To stop himself from thinking that she wasn't there. Collins shook his head. He disagreed with nearly everything that the book was telling him. The phone began to ring. Mark wasn't there to answer it, he had gone out for something or other, Collins hadn't been listening.

"_SPPEEEAAAKKKK!!!"_ Droned the answering machine. A voice with a musty accent spoke.

"Erm...hello...ahem. This is the head of the Philosophy department at New York University. I need to speak with Professor Collins, this is listed as his phone number. If he could...um...call the university as soon...as...err...possible. That would be good. Yes. Good."

Collins jumped up from his position on the floor and reached for the phone. It had been months since someone had called him 'professor' and that was enough to make his curiosity get the better of him.

"Tom Collins speaking...," he said quickly, wondering what NYU wanted with him now.

"Ah! Hello!" The musty voice barked, as if it had never spoken to someone on a phone before, and was truly surprised to hear someone speaking back. Collins suspected that many of the Philosophy teachers at NYU had yet to have electricity in their apartments, and wrote on scrolls with quills, by candlelight.

"Hi...can I help you?" Collins asked. There was the sound of papers being shuffled on the other end of the line. Then a throat being cleared before speaking again.

"I hope so...you see, Mr Collins, we're having a little bit of a crisis here at the university!" Collins wondered what said crisis could be. It had to be bad, if they were willing to speak to him again. "Yes...you see...several teachers are absent for one reason or another. Bad planning on our part, and we really need a substitute to cover some classes...just for a few weeks. It seems you are the only teacher available...can you do it?" The voice sounded as if it was on the verge of tears, it was so desperate to get a teacher. Collins considered it for a moment. He had nothing better to be doing, and he sure as hell needed the money. There were also those rare moments when he enjoyed teaching, that needed to be brought into consideration.

"Oh...okay then...when would you like me to start?" He submitted, feeling a nervousness already setting into his stomach.

"Tomorrow! Seven thirty! You'll be there? Brilliant! Thank you Mr Collins!" The voice exclaimed, before a click and a beep told him that the caller had hung up. Collins sank back into lying on the floor again, wondering what he had let himself in for. He had no idea what kind of kids he would be teaching. It had been too long since he had last taught and he had nearly forgotten everything he had learnt about philosophy in the first place. Collins was quick to return to his battered paperback, in hope that it would teach him something useful.

_Late that night. Mimi is on her way back from work. She's been not so great lately. Angel is missing still, and that leaves her without a friend. A close friend, anyway. She's still clean. Roger is proud of her, although he isn't very good at showing it. After a long night at work, Mimi is tired. Her body aches and her head does too._

Mimi pulled a lock of her thick hair out of her face where it had stuck with sweat. She walked quickly, hurrying to get home and ignoring some of the people who were calling out to her. None of them wanted anything that she was willing to give. Someone came up beside her suddenly, and grabbed her arm. She quickly pulled away, spinning round to see who it was. She came face to face with her old drug dealer, who was just called the man. He wasn't stupid enough to give out his real name.

"Long time no see..." he said, in a low voice, pulling Mimi aside into a low doorway, where they wouldn't be seen.

"Long time no need," Mimi insisted, trying to move away. The man just grabbed her arm and made her face him again. He pulled out a bag of white powder from his pocket, and held it in front of Mimi's face.

"You sure about that?" he asked with a sneer on his face. He wouldn't take Mimi's head shaking as an answer. He pressed in into her palm. "Come on, I'll make you a special offer, as an old business partner. Twenty dollars."

Mimi's mouth hung open. That was cheap. Really cheap. A couple of months ago, she would have killed to get it that cheap. She had more than that in her coat pocket, for once. Her mind failed to come up with a real reason why she shouldn't do it. After all, it was nothing more than a really good painkiller. No worse than something you could buy from the drugstore. She told herself over and over, pushing thoughts of Roger out of her mind. It wasn't like he owned her or anything. Twenty dollars. Twenty dollars and there would be no more shaking. No more pain. She could sleep properly that night.

"Deal," Mimi said quickly, before she could change her mind. She handed the man twenty dollars in crumpled notes, and slipped the stash into her pocket, hoping nobody she knew had seen her make the exchange. "Don't you come chasing after me again...creep..." she muttered, but with a grin on her face. The man just made a rude gesture at her before turning and walking down the street. He turned around and gave a false cheery wave.

"Take care...you know where I am if you need some more..." he shouted out to Mimi from down the street. Mimi just shrugged and continued on her way home. She really hoped that Roger was asleep. She couldn't face him.

_Lucky for Mimi, Roger was asleep. She put the stash inside an old pair of socks, and then wrapped them up in some old sweater. Went to sleep like nothing had happened. A floor above, Tom Collins's alarm clock goes off._

Collins let out a groan. Being woken up by an alarm was just the worst way to start the day. Set him off in a bad mood right away. He pulled himself up from the couch, hitting the alarm clock with his first, in the hope of turning it off. Luckily for the alarm clock, he hit it right. He pulled on something that he assumed would be suitable for teaching, he hadn't bothered to check if there was some dumb strict dress code or anything. He threw a few of his old philosophy books in his bag. He had spent the night before searching for them, and then flicking through them for a couple of hours. Bringing back a mix of memories from when he would be teaching everyday. He couldn't remember if he had been happy then or not.

He sat down on the couch, a cup of coffee in his hand. He remembered what he had said to Angel, when he was trying to convince her to go into the hospital. It had been along the lines of, if she wasn't there, he would be back in a dead end job. It was true. He had been without Angel for three weeks, and already he was slipping back into the old pattern off his life. Get up. Work. Come home. Sleep. He wished Angel was there to interrupt him. Tell him that there was no point in him going to boring NYU to teach a boring subject to boring kids, when he could be walking around the city with her. But he couldn't go around with her, because she wasn't there. So Collins had no choice but to go and work. Maybe it would stop him from missing her. Maybe it would make it a whole lot worse.


	13. Chapter 13

**A quick update. For once!**

**Enjoyyyyy!!**

When Mimi opened her eyes the next day, she remembered why she had tried to kick her habit. She would sink into the same pattern everyday. In the evening, she would shoot up, usually before and after work, to get her through the evening and through the night. Waking up was the worst part. Withdrawal would set it. She woke up feeling as if she had slept on the cold sidewalk. She lay, curled up in a ball on the corner of her bed. Her stomach felt as if it were being squeezed in a vice, and she couldn't lay down straight or stand up. She just lay there, shaking and aching all over. It was like someone had soaked her bones in gasoline, and then dropped a lit match on them. Mimi wished she could just get up and go and get a glass of water. No...that wouldn't work. That was the problem. The only thing that would get rid of the pain would be more smack. Then the next time round, she would need to take more to get rid of the withdrawal from the last dose. It was a horrible routine. One that she was right back in again.

There was the sound of the door of the apartment opening and closing. Roger was home. Shit. Mimi knew that he would be able to tell what was wrong with her. He had been through six months of it. One look and he would know. Mimi reached out an arm and pulled the sheets right over her head, in the hope that Roger would think that she was still asleep.

Roger opened the door to the bedroom quietly. Mimi had come home late the night before, and it was likely that she wanted to sleep until early afternoon. It was late morning now. He could see the shape of her, curled up underneath the sheets in a little ball. He could see that her slender frame was shaking violently. Roger frowned with concern, and sat down gently on the edge of the bed. He pulled the covers away from her gently. Mimi lay, still curled up in a tight little ball. Her hair was stuck to her with sweat, her skin shining from it, yet her teeth were chattering and her muscles contracting with violent shivering. Roger didn't know what to do. He felt anger and disappointment flare up in him immediately. She had given in. Even when she had promised that she wouldn't, she had. At the same time, Mimi was in pain, and he knew that he had to look after her. Roger tried to forget about his anger for a few minutes. He brought Mimi a glass of cold water and helped her to sit up.

Mimi pulled herself up slowly, feeling the stomach cramps easing slightly as soon as cool water touched her mouth.

"I'm sorry..." she said slowly, looking up at Roger. He just pushed a couple of aspirin into her hand, not meeting her eye. He didn't want to talk to her, or he knew he would yell something that he would regret.

_Close up on Tom Collins. It's nearing the end of a very long day for him. _

He had taught a variety of classes that day. All philosophy, but each class was at a different level, and each kid came up with some sort of ridiculous theory that he had to prove wrong. Smartass kids, they would argue as long as they possibly could, just to waste lesson time. Now Collins had a huge stack of papers to mark, as he had stupidly set several classes with writing exercises, forgetting that he would have to thoroughly grade each one. The next day, he would be handed the assignments he had asked for as homework, and he would have another night full of paper grading.

Collins yawned, packing his things away and locking the classroom on his way out. It was several hours after the last class had ended and the halls were nearly empty, apart from the odd cleaner or professor. He checked the clock on his way out. Shit. It was later than he thought, and it would probably be better to get a room in a motel then drag himself all the way home. He would try and finish earlier the next day and talk to his friends about his work then.

_Late at night. Collins is sat on a cheap motel bed, up to his elbows in endless papers about Metaphysics and Ontology. He knows he is going to be up until the early hours of the morning marking these papers, leaving him with only a couple of hours sleep._

_Mimi storms out of her apartment, dressed for work. By the sound she is making stomping down the stairs, I can pretty much tell that she and Roger aren't on the best of terms. He came in this afternoon furious, yelling something about Mimi 'not helping herself' and 'wasting his time'. He shut himself in his old room in the Loft, letting me know that he couldn't be around someone who was so stupid. Mimi came up and tried to talk to him, but he remained silent. I told her that he would come round in a couple of days._

Mimi sighed at her reflection in the mirror. The last of the girl were changing back into normal clothes and heading home. A lot of them were like her. They looked good on the dance floor, with make up and their trashy clothes. But up close, they were damaged. Black shadows under their eyes from working such late hours. Many of them were junkies, with track marks lacing their arms, shooting up in the dressing rooms, when they thought that none of the other girls were watching. Mimi bit her lip. She still had her stash in her pocket, she had slipped it in their earlier, not wanting Roger to find it if he looked around her room. She was really tempted.

"Mimi...Mimi..." hissed one of the girls, coming up to Mimi, her fake fur jacket pulled tight around her.

"What?" Mimi asked, packing her make up and dancing clothes into her bag.

"Have you got any smack? Ruby said you had...I need it bad Mimi...I would go to my usual guy but I owe him and he'll have a right go at me if I ask for more...please..."

It was nothing new. At the end of work, most of the girls would be begging round for something...cigarettes...a joint...coke...smack...you name it, one of the girls would be after it. Mimi noticed this as an opportunity. She could get rid of her stash. Get rid of temptation, and then she would tell Roger and he would be proud of her again. Do it Mimi, she told herself. Before she could become dependant again.

"Yes...here...take it. I don't want it anyway," Mimi said quickly, pulling out the stash and throwing to the girl, who caught it and looked at it as if she wasn't sure it existed. She grabbed Mimi and pulled her into a hug.

"Oh my god, Mimi, you're an absolute angel! You're the best!" She squealed, jumping up and down a little before heading for the exit and turning to say goodbye. "I'll see ya tomorrow night...I'll pay you back, I promise. You're a star Mimi!"

Mimi smiled as the girl headed out of the door and breathed a slow sigh of relief. No more. She wasn't going to buy any more. Even if the man offered it to her for free, she wasn't going to take it. Now she was going to go home and find Roger and tell him what she had done. Maybe he would forgive her.

Mimi skipped down the road home. She tried to ignore the cramps that were starting on her stomach. She knew she would have to pay for her slip up. She'd feel bad for a few days, but after that, she would keep clean and she would promise herself. She was going to do it. Roger had managed it. He wouldn't touch drugs now. Mimi wanted to be the same way. The nights were starting to get warmer, she noticed.

Mimi passed some bum, sitting on the street corner. She was in such a good mood, she pulled out a few dollars, almost all of her tips for the whole night, and put them at his feet. She remembered times when a few dollars would have saved her ass.

"Thanks..." muttered the guy, in a low voice. Mimi gave a smile in his general direction before carrying on walking.

"Wait..." he called after her in a hoarse voice, reaching out and grabbing her ankle with a harsh grip. Shit. Mimi should have known better than to help some guy out in the middle of the city, it was asking for trouble. She tried to pull away, but this guy was persistent, and clung to her.

"Let go of me!" She hissed. The guy still grabbed her leg, muttering something incoherent. Mimi managed to pull her leg away, and yelled at the guy, kicking out with one of her feet. She caught the guy on the side of the face with her stilettos and began to walk away quickly, trying to ignore the guy's pained groans.

"Wait...Mimi!"

Mimi stopped dead. He knew her name. How did he know her name?

----

**Can we say 'DUNDUNDUUUUN!!!!'?**

**I bet y'all can guess who it is.**

**x**


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